Protecting Pen (Loved by the SEAL #8)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Adrian “Foster” Davis turned from the door as Jump set the charges that would blow the place open. The heart-pounding chaos of taking a building made him feel alive. He wouldn’t describe himself as an adrenaline junkie, but he would be lying to say he didn’t love this.

Sometimes breaching a building ran smoothly, like dancers on a stage, not a single mark missed as they moved as one. Other times, their missions were akin to ballet performed by drunk chickens, and everything that could go wrong did.

Whatever happened today, he would enjoy the chaos, because this was the good kind. It was the type of upheaval he invited into his life by remaining a SEAL.

He was second through the door, behind T. He trusted T with his life, just like everyone on his team. They all had his absolute trust. They were the best people he knew, and he would do anything for them.

Being a SEAL was something he’d worked hard for. He’d almost given up a few times in training, but fighting through the pain and hardships had been worth it. Getting through BUDs had proved he could do anything, could get through anything, just like they’d get through this.

As he made his way through the complex, he thought of their mission. Today they were retrieving a man who had intelligence the US needed about terrorist attacks planned close to US military bases in Europe.

There were also rumors swirling around about the guy and human trafficking. There wasn’t solid evidence he was involved in the trade, but his SEAL team would look for evidence.

They’d made it through the first room and were moving to the next one when two guys pulled weapons on them. Foster took the shot, praying it wasn’t the man they were after. He would check later and see if they’d accidentally killed the guy they were here for.

The building had two floors that they knew of. Foster led Wave and Bang upstairs, clearing every room. The guys on the first floor cleared everything down there, not finding the asshole they were after.

Finally, Foster opened a closet door in the last room they were searching and found the jerk hiding under a pile of sheets. The photo matched. The dude pretended he wasn’t the man they were looking for, claiming to be his brother. Foster told him to save it for the interrogation.

With zip ties on their prisoner, they headed downstairs. The raid hadn’t been too bad. He’d expected worse, but overall, they’d taken the building easily. There were no surprises, nothing out of the ordinary.

Once downstairs, he checked with Cy, making sure everything seemed right before they called for transport.

“Everything is good,” Cy said.

“Okay, T. Do you want to call for transport?” Wave asked.

“Sure thing, boss.”

Foster turned to step outside when he heard a noise. It was small, but unexpected. He swung his gaze to Cy and pointed to where he thought the sound was coming from. “What’s that sound?”

Cy shook his head. “No clue. There was nothing there other than a wall.”

Foster didn’t like it, didn’t like extraneous noises during missions. “We should check again.”

Pen had no room to stretch and little room to move.

This cage wasn’t too different from the one she’d been in before, just a different location, and a different jerk dictating her life.

She wanted to lie flat and stretch a little.

She didn’t need enough room to raise her hands over her head and arch her back.

She would be happy with being able to straighten her legs, but that wasn’t possible.

It seemed as if life had been one cage after another.

First, she’d been under her mother’s thumb, then her father had taken over.

Now, this guy determined what happened to her.

There had been others in the nearly two years she’d been held captive, but this guy was mean to the core and much worse than the others.

Back before all this started, before she’d been taken from her bed in her father’s house, she’d thought life was unfair. She hadn’t known the meaning of unfair. Whatever she’d suffered in the States had been child’s play compared to this.

It sucked that her father, who she’d previously thought of as Daddy Money Bags, had some cash flow issues. Apparently, he’d racked up a lion’s share of gambling debts he had to pay back. To accomplish that, he’d sold her. Being sold to pay back his debts had confirmed what she’d always suspected.

Her father hated her.

It would have been better if her mother had left her father’s name off her birth certificate. Sure, she wouldn’t have known who her father was, and that would have sucked in its own way, but her dad was a total dick, and she was locked in this cage because of him.

If he’d been an unknown, she might have searched for him.

Who was she kidding? She would have turned over every rock, looked in every dark corner after making up some fantasy land perfect guy who didn’t know she existed.

It would have driven her crazy not knowing his name or anything about him, but if that had been the case, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

Like many things in life, the reality of her father didn’t live up to the hype.

It pained her to know that her father was a monster who her mother had wanted because he was rich and powerful.

Her mother had been impressed by his money and sold her soul to get close to the bastard.

Now they were all paying for her mother’s mistake of thinking that being close to a powerful man would make her powerful.

It never worked that way in real life, and it hadn’t worked out well for her mother.

Getting comfortable enough to sleep while locked in a small cage wasn’t easy, but she’d finally found a spot that wasn’t too bad, if she didn’t count the fact that she couldn’t stretch out and lie on her back.

She was about to drift off when she heard a noise that didn’t sound like the normal noises the jerks upstairs got up to.

The other people down here heard the noise, too, and were passing around shushing noises like popcorn at a fair.

She wasn’t going to shush, though. The difference in sounds up there had to be a good thing.

Maybe she would go from one cruel master to another, but surely a different cage would be better than this one.

Pen reached out through the wires of her cage and started tapping against the wall. The woman next to her tried to get her to stop, but Pen was just out of her reach.

While in captivity, she’d learned a few phrases in other languages, and she was sure this woman was cursing her, calling her a bitch or something like that. The woman could call her names all day long. She wasn’t going to stop tapping.

The noises above changed, growing quieter. Now it seemed almost too quiet. Had they left? She stopped tapping, listening for anything to indicate the new people were still around. There was nothing.

Shit, had she missed her opportunity for escape? She couldn’t live another year like this. She would escape this cage one way or another.